


Welcome Home (We Leave the Window in your Room Cracked so you Don't Have to use The Door)

by EternityPrevails



Series: Cries in the night [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Light Angst, Nightmares, Serious Injuries, Tim Drake retired from being a hero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-20 21:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19384702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternityPrevails/pseuds/EternityPrevails
Summary: When Dick moved out to became Nightwing another rule was added to the list of unwritten Bat-Rules. They would leave the window in his room cracked and he could always come home. It wasn't a common thing for him to came home, it wasn't something that happened every week or even every month. But still, when Alfred was waking Damian up for breakfast and school he still knocked on Dick's door just in case.Aka: 5-times Dick Snuck Home in the Middle of the Night and One Time Someone Called Him Home.1 & 2 are kinda angsty3, 5, & 6 are hurt/comfort4 is just fluff





	1. My Mama Used to Tell Me There was a Man Who Lived on the Moon (revised + added content)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing's grappling broke while he was patrolling. Falling triggered flashback induced hallucinations so he decided to go back to the mansion instead of his empty apartment.

He heard the snap. It wasn't a loud or distinctly recognizable sound, but to Dick it was the loudest thing he had ever heard. His grappling line snapped, each thin titanium laced nylon cord giving out and pulling all the others with it. He wasn't high off the ground when it happened, thank whatever god there was for that. But he also wasn't low ,maybe about fifteen feet up or so. Not enough to kill him but enough to see the memory of his parents flash before his eyes before the impact of the concrete on his body. In his shock, he somehow had managed to curl up so that he minimized the damage of the impact. 

He felt the adrenaline buzzing throughout his body as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position on the concrete. His muscles hurt from the fall but as he carefully stretched every limb he seemed to have no broken bones and he thanked the gods for the second time that night that he was uninjured. Moving slowly he forced himself to get up onto his feet from the sitting position, he put weight on one ankle all was good so far, he put weight on the other - scratch that, he wasn't uninjured his ankle was definitely twisted. Biting back the pain he picked up the grappling gun and examined the frayed cord, the titanium lacing seemed to be rusted. This gun had probably been on its way out for some time now and he had just not noticed.

Irritation at himself and the entire situation burned at the back of his throat. He was putting the gun back on his belt when suddenly he heard his name "Dickie-Bird." His breathing stopped, he was frozen where he stood. Looking around desperately he tried to see who had just called him, he frantically hoped that someone from his family had chosen that night to impede on his territory but he didn't see anyone else there. "Dickie Bird look at us" He heard the voice again behind him, it seemed too familiar yet he couldn't quite place it. He swung around ignoring the shooting pain that went up through his ankle and a rock hit his stomach. In front of him was his parents. 

"Why'd you let us fall Dickie-bird?" His mother was talking and her voice sounded like ice. He stumbled back a few steps tripping on litter and falling onto his ass. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to block out the sounds of his dead parents taunting him, this couldn't be happening right now. He couldn't be having flashbacks right now,all by himself, injured, and in the middle of a very bad neighborhood at high crime hour. This was possibly the actual worst time for this to be happening. He whispered to himself _' they're not real, just breathe. They're not real ,just breathe'_ like it was some kind of mantra. If a civilian or a villain were to come upon him now it would just be a pathetic sight. The great Nightwing sitting on his ass in a dirty ally rocking himself slightly (in attempts to calm himself), sobbing, and muttering to himself in a jumbled mix of Romani and english, with his eyes squeezed closed and his ears covered fruitlessly by his hands like a scared child . Really if someone were to come upon him now he couldn't have even noticed he was so taken in the flashbacks and on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. 

After several long minutes, he stopped hearing his parents voice and several minutes after that he opened his eyes to see the hallucinations gone. He managed to pull himself up from the dirty floor and adjust so he was putting as little weight as possible on his ankle. At that moment his stomach turned and he barely had time to support himself against a wall before his stomach was painfully forcing out all its contents. He sunk to his knees again bracing himself against the brick wall, his whole body was shaking and new tears started falling down his cheeks from the pain of his stomach twisting and convulsing so violently inside him. He wished somebody, anybody, would find him but the night was silent. After he managed to get control of himself he though of what to do next, he needed to go back to his apartment. No, going to his apartment was a bad idea, if he had one flashback it meant that he could have more and even in his unfocused state he knew to be alone when he had flashbacks was a bad idea especially if they were going to potentially trigger hullucinations. At a young age, they had learned that during flashbacks and nightmares dick was very prone to hurting himself without meaning to and sometimes rather severely even to the point of needing stitches.  

No, he couldn't go back to his apartment he needed to go home. To Gotham, and the Mansion, and his family just so someone would be there if he accidentally hurt himself. After several long minutes he decided that he would go back to the mansion and wake up Damian, his youngest brother was the most efficient at getting him back from that dark place in his mind, He assessed his situation. He didn't trust himself to ride his bike, he didn't have a spare grappling gun - not that he would use it if he did. He'd have to walk to the nearest Zeta tube and port to Gotham then walk to the mansion and sneak in his window. It was painful to walk but he did it anyway cause he still, however foolish it may be, had too much pride to call for help because that means he would have to explain that he neglected his equipment to the point it broke. 

He knew his window would be cracked open. Not by much, just enough to get his fingers under so he could undo the lock without setting off an alarm and let himself in. After he had moved out (and then extended to his two brothers after they had moved away) this had become one of the unwritten rules of the house. Jason, Tim, and Him were allowed back whenever they wanted. Their windows would always be cracked for them and in the mornings when Alfred was waking up Damian and Bruce for breakfast he would always check the other boy's rooms just in case. The other two boys rarely used this open unspoken invitation back to the mansion but Dick used it fairly regularly (at least every two or three months) for a variety of different reasons ranging from him being sick or injured to him genuinely just missing Alfred's cooking. It really didn't matter why the boys had come home, nobody was surprised when someone joined them unexpectedly at the table for breakfast. Or when they walked up on a brother in the middle of the night that they hadn't even known, was there. It had just become one of the normal things in the increasingly odd family. Former Robins came and went from the Mansion and the secret cave like it was a central station, and in a way it was. 

The nearest Zeta tube to the mansion was a couple of blocks away, it hurt but after roughly wrapping it with an ice bandage in his supply belt he managed to walk all the way there without another panic attack but he definitely heard the voices of his parents and Zucco surrounding him threatening to tear away his peace. This was going to be a long ass night. He was shaking from pain and anxiety which made getting up the tree to his room difficult. All the robin's room were on the third floor of the mansion, it was originally meant to stop them from sneaking out but that hadn't really worked. He fumbled in climbing the tree and his foot slipped letting a branch cut his arm and his uniform, something he would have never let happen on a normal night. Shaking hands made it hard to open the lock and he was so frustrated he actually thought of just breaking it and letting the alarm go off but he took a deep breath and finally got it opened. 

He opened it just enough to slide in and then shut and locked it. This would set off a sensor on the bat computer if Batman was still awake he now knew that Dick was home. He stripped off the Nightwing costume as fast as he could and throwing on sweats instead. "RICHARD!" He heard his fathers voice this time, scolding him with his full name. Something so rare to hear his parents call him anything but Dick or Robin. He stumbled back sinking onto the floor with his back to a wall before looking around for the hallucinations of his parents. They were at the foot of his bed, bleeding and broken. There necks at odd angles, arms bent back and twisted to unnatural positions even for them, and their ribs protruding in odd spots through their acrobatic uniforms. He wanted to close his eyes, to wish it all away but he felt like he had no strength to do anything but stare at them. "Richard! This is your fault, you were supposed to check the rope" THey walked to him and he felt a scream get stuck in his throat, he was hyperventilating and tears streamed down his face. 

He wanted to tell them that he had checked the rope before the show, it wasn't until after he had checked it that Zucco had weakened it with acid. This wasn't his fault, he hadn't been the one to kill them. He hadn't been the one to get them killed, he was just a child. He looked around the room again but he wasn't seeing the room. He  was seeing the High-top tent, the trapeze. His parents were gone and Zucco was standing on the wooden platform with the acid bucket in his hands. He was dripping it on the strings, enough to weaken them but not the break them - not yet. He saw his parents on the stand, he was supposed to be up there with them. He wanted to scream to tell them to not go, the ropes were weak. He tried to move, to scream but he was glued to his spot. He wanted to look away, he couldn't. He wanted to warn them, he couldn't. He wanted to do anything other than just stand there watching them in slow motion waving at the crowd, starting the performance, falling

falling

.

falling

.

falling

.

falling

.

falling

.

blood

That's all there was, blood. His vision had gone red and all he could see and smell was blood. He didn't know where he was now, not the circus, not his room. On top of a building, he looked at his hands, black gloves large heavy Kevlar. He was Batman, he looked to his side - Damian, Robin. "I'll radio you when I'm in position" Damian spoke pointedly. This had happened, Batman had been off-world and Dick had been filling in. It had been raining, Damian's Grappling Gun jerked in the wind, his hand slipped, he fell. DIck had caught him and nobody was injured. But now Dick couldn't move, he wanted to get up to save Damian from falling but he couldn't move from his spot crouched on the roof watching everything happen. Damian fell into the alley blood ran with the rain into the sewer, he was dead and Dick was still glued in the same position watching the blood pool under his brother. 

Once again there was nothing but blood, everything was red like a large empty room or nothingness. Damian and his Parents stood in front of him broken and bloody with body parts at unnatural angles. Their eyes were all glossed over and unseeing, they were all dead. "This is your fault" THey chanted at him "This is all your fault, why didn't you catch usand stop this, why didn't you save us." They grabbed onto him ripping and scratching his skin.

Someone said his name, it wasn't any of the three hullucinated figures in front of him. It was softer, kinder, more gentle but he couldn't place it. He looked around the red room, the broken figures were now gone and he was alone. He knew he was still in the middle of a flashback induced hallucination but he could hear that voice, he just needed to focus on that voice. It felt like years but the red started to give way to his room and he saw Damian crouching in front of him. His throat felt tight as he raked his eyes over the room making sure the broken figures were no longer in the room. No, no broken bloody figures. He looked his little brother in the eye trying to centre himself in present, his eyes weren't glossed over and grey. They were the same green as Bruces. 

"I-I'm sorry" He voice was scratchy and rough "Wa-was I scr-screaming?" He stuttered. He was hoping that Damian had just found him by coincidence and he hadn't started screaming and waking everyone up. It may have been normal for the boys to come home at random points in the night but it would never be normal to hear someone screaming out in fear and pain when you didn't even know they were there. The young man just shook his head gently and wiped a tear from Dick's cheek.

"I heard crying" He whispered as not to scare Dick. His room was right beside the older man's and while the walls were not thin they were thin enough that broken sobs coming from the next room over could wake up a light sleeper such as Damian. "I wanted to check on you, make sure you were uninjured."

Damian didn't offer any more explanation and Dick didn't need it. His brother had heard him crying and came over to check, he had found him on the floor by his bed sobbing and having flashbacks. He was probably minimally responsive and pale. "I'm sorry" he whispered again, his voice broke "I fe-fell, Flas-flashback trig-trig-triggered ha-ha-hallu-hullucinations, panic at-at-atta-atta.." He stopped. God, he was so stupid, he was the older brother he was supposed to take care of his brother, not the other way around.

He was supposed to take care of his brother

He was susposed to make sure his brother was safe

He was supposed to stop him from falling

He didn't stop him from falling

He should have stopped him from falling

He let him f...

"Stop" Damian's voice was gentle but serious. Damian had enough flashbacks to notice when someone was starting to spiral back into that dark pit and Dick had definitely started to spiral again. his breathing was borderline hyperventilating and a new wave of tears had welled up in his eyes. "Don't go back there, there is nothing you need back there."

Dick knew what he meant but it still hurt, he still felt like he couldn't breath. The room felt too small, he wasn't getting enough oxygen. His hands were shaking and digging into his arm. Black had started to splotch his vision. "Im - im - im - im - scared - im scared" He whispered. Damian was in front of him, alive but he couldn't help it. Every time he looked him in the eyes he saw the glazed over grey, the blood, the fear etched into his dead body. Damian just nodded and rubbed his arm reassuringly.

"You need to breath" Damian reminded him "Or you will pass out and i will have to get father." No no no Dick didn't want to wake up Bruce or anyone else, he knew most the family was home that night and didn't want to break down infront of everyone. He tried to breath in but choked on the air and ended up in a coughing fit, the second attempt was more successful and eventually his breath were stable. A little quick and a bit shallow, but stable. He felt dizzy, sick, and weak. After Dick was breathing more normally Damian took the time to ask "You fell?"

Dick nodded, "Cord.. grap um grappling cord snapped, I i i think I think it was rusted" He managed to stutter out, cursing himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence. Grabbing the gun from his belt he handed it to Damian who examined to cord on it for a while. For a little bit they didn't talk, Dick focused on breathing and Damian examined the cord noting that the rust was "surface deep" and "wouldn't have resulted in this type of snapping".

"NO!" Dick suddenly gasped trying to back into the wall, his breathing picked up again and his eyes looked wide. Behind Damian he saw his parents appear, still bloody and broke, still accusing him of letting them fall. His breathing started to pick up again and he covered his ears trying to block out their voices "no,no,no,no,no,no" he muttered. This sudden just from seemingly calming down to completely freaking out again startled damian and he quickly looked around the room to see what had set Dick off again. Nothing, there was nothing there. "Mami, Tati, no, please no" the scared man muttered sounding weak. 

"Grayson? Grayson look at me!" Damian was demanding, the unexpected shift had startled him. Dick didn't want to look, he was scared to open his eyes and see them. Damian seemed to notice this method wasn't working and decided to try something new. "Whats your name" He asked gently, touching dick knee. 

"D-Di-Dick Gray-grayson" He stuttered out without moving form his position. At least if he was talking he was breathing

"And how old are you?" Damian asked, hoping this was helping

"Eigh....nine...teen"

"How old are you?" Damian asked again, hearing Dick answer eight the first time broke his heart. He must have been really wrapped up in the tramua, Damian wondered how long he had been like this before Damian had found him. 

"Nineteen" Dick answered correctly this time

"Okay and do you know where you are?" 

"Circus... no a roof .. no no no no um.. umm.. um.. " His breathing seemed to be slowing down to a normal rate"I'm ... I'm in the manor" he finally whispered. Damian nodded silently 

"Can you open your eyes?"

"no, scared" Dick seemed to go pale and his had came up to cover his mouth, he felt sick. Thick saliva filled his mouth and he bit is tongue hard trying to push it all away, he wasn't going to throw up. He tasted the bile building up in the back of his throat making him gag. He pushed his hand harder against his mouth. He could hear Damian shuffling around and then he hear the small metal trashcan, the one he kept by his bed, sat down in front of him. He felt damain's warm had on his back whispering something softly but his blood was rushing in his ears and he coulnd't hear it. He grabbed the rim of the small trashcan blindly and leaned over it, still unwilling to let go control. It only maintained control for a few more seconds before his stomach decided to constrict painfull and he barely moved his hand in time for it not to be vomited on. 

He hated vomiting but he was one of those people who almsot always threw up when he had panic attacks. When he finally finsihed he looked up patheticly at his brother. His parents wer still there, he wanted to hug Damian and cry till they were gone but he knew the the young man hated that kind of afection so he jsut wrapped his arms around himself silently. It was Damian who pulled him into ahug and he hugged back as tightly as he could and buried his face into the young man's shoulders. Sobs broke free and he was crying uncontrollably into Damian's shoulder, his whole body shaking. Normally Damian would be opposed to the physical contact but he knew that Dick was a very kinesthetic type of person and needed the physical contact. He hugged Dick back until he started feeling him go heavy against his shoulder, probably falling asleep. 

"Grayson" he whispered and shook the boy lightly, Dick looked up with tired bloodshot eyes. "We need to stitch up your cuts before you can sleep" Dick finally looked in the body mirror that was on his wall. He had deep dull cuts on his neck, arms, and chest and some looked like the kind that came from nails but the others looked like blade marks. he looked at Damian and saw a bloody Bat-a-rang behind him, his stomach dropped. the blood on his pale skin made him feel sick and dizzy. 

"I didn't mean to" He whispered looking at Damian, he had promised Damian during a low point that he would never hurt himself. That's why he had come here instead of his apartment, just in case something like this had happened but he really had planned on getting farther than his bedroom before the memories took over completely.

"I know, Damian said, You weren't here, in this reality so it doesn't count your promise is still good." He looked at Dick and then the Bat-a-rang

"So am I telling Pennysworth that you were losing your mind or should I hide the evidence and tell him you were in a fight and woke me up as soon as you got here" This had more of a joking manner towards it. No matter what Damian told Alfred the butler would know the truth, really the only person they would be lying to is their adopted brothers and the bat himself. 

"Tell him I was attacked" Dick whispered gratefully for his brother's willingness to lie for him. 

Damian nodded and looked over Dick one more time before running out of the room to wake up Alfred and their father. 

 


	2. She Said He was All Alone up on The Moon,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depressive Episodes are a Bitch. Tea, cookies, and reheated dinners at 3 am definitely aren't the cure, but they sure can't hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the promise that is referred to is a promise he made with Damian. It was that no matter how low either of them got they wouldn't hurt themselves.

Dick wasn't really sure what compelled him to go back to the mansion. It had been a few months since he had last gone home, the last time being when Damian found him in his room having flashbacks and bleeding. He had gone to his house after patrol, but the room seemed too big and too quiet. He felt like he might just disappear into the vast emptiness that was the studio apartment so he got on his bike and drove an hour to Gotham. Despite the mansion that he grew up in being physically larger than his apartment it felt significantly less empty. The walls and halls were lined with art and photos, decorative pieces that were still there from Bruce's parents. If dick had kept something from his circus life other than his acrobatics it would be his minimalism. 

Getting in took only a few seconds, it used to take him longer to open the window lock from the outside but now he was all but an expert at it. His room at the mansion even seemed empty compared to the rest of the house. He was smart but didn't have many books on his bookshelf, his bed was made but not as extravagantly as bruces or Alfreds, and his dressers were all but empty even though he did keep clothes there in case of nights like tonight. He slipped into the room easily, he was wearing his Nightwing outfit but he hadn't really gone patrolling. He had started to but less than twenty minutes later he was standing at the edge of a building and he couldn't help but feel the overwhelming desire to step off the edge just to feel himself fall. After several minutes of standing on the edge he decided to just go home for the night, he did have a promise to keep to his little brother. 

He stripped off his uniform feeling the elastic pulling at the hair on his skin, he really needed to shave. The thought made him think of the acrobatics uniform at the circus and how they had to shave the minute hair started coming in so it didn't stick. He was too young to know that problem when he was in the circus with his parents but he remembered his father complaining about it constantly. The thoughts that just added to the blackness that was resting on his soul. After the uniform was off he looked at himself in the mirror, scars from stabbings, cuttings, and various other things. Including scars from getting tangled in the trapeze net as a child and scars from rope burns. A few more scars wouldn't be noticed, would they?

He cut that thought off and tuned from the mirror pulling on a long sleeve black cotton shirt and black sweat pants. He couldn't sleep, bouts of insomnia had been keeping him up for days. He sighed again, for maybe the hundredth time that night and wondered out of his room and next door to were Damian was asleep. Cracking the door he peaked in. There was a point that even cracking the door would have woken the young boy but now he slept on peacefully. He laid on his back with one arm draped over his eyes breathing lightly. He looked young and at peace, which was a good thing considering how rarely he actually allowed himself to sleep. After several minutes of watching his brother, Dick smiled weakly and closed the door again walking over to the next one. The next one was Tim's room, Tim wasn't home that night but Dick looked in his room anyway. It was perfectly clean, books on the shelf and a computer on the bed. He thought about going in and putting the computer on the table but decided against it. Next was Jason's room, it was a hot mess. Clothes everywhere, guns on the table, plates on the nightstand. He must have been at the mansion sometime in the last 24 hours because there was no way that Alfred would let the room stay like this for long. 

His stomach growled reminding him that he hadn't eaten in quite a while so he walked down silently to the kitchen. Spotless, as always. He knew where everything was from the plates to the leftovers (which were almost exclusively eaten by the boys at random times of night) had been in the same spot since he was eight. He heated up some meatloaf in the silent microwave. They used to have a different microwave but after it became apparent that midnight meals were going to be a regular thing despite Alfred's initial disapproval, they had gotten one that didn't have any noises to it. He also grabbed a few cookies and at them silently waiting for his food to finish. Even cold and a few days old Alfred's cookies were the best. HIs meatloaf went off and he grabbed it sitting on the barstool in front of the counter and eating before it even cooled down.

"Mind if I join you, Master Dick?" The voice scared Dick but he didn't really have the energy to jump away from it. Instead, he looked up slowly to see Alfred standing in his night clothes in front of the counter.

"Sure" he whispered and continued to eat, slowing down to actually chew and enjoy the food now that his pseudo-grandfather was here. The older man smiles and sat down across from them and it was a while before either of them spoke. 

"Would you like some tea?" Alfred asked knowingly and Dick just nodded. He felt like he had a knot in his throat blocking his voice, it wasn't sadness but guilt over his impulse thoughts of injuries and death. He knew Alfred wouldn't ask why he was home, as part of the unspoken rule. He also knew that the butler didn't need to ask, he had spent more than thirty years as a bat butler. He was as good a detective as any of the rest of them. Alfred sat back down with the two teacups and handed one to his oldest grandson. Dick just looked at it and bit back tears.

He had made a promise, to himself and his brother. He was going to keep it no matter how low he got, and simple unspoken moments like this would make it a hell of a lot less painful. The heavy blackness that was weighing on his soul seemed to lessen up just a little bit and for now, that's all he really needed. He would probably stay here for a few days till he trusted himself to patrol again. He knew nobody would push if he didn't want to talk, and he was grateful for that. 


	3. He was so Lonely that He Watched the People of Night, the Broken the Scared and The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets hurt during a patrol. He manages to stitch himself up at his apartment but he needs to make it to the mansion so get help before his body goes into shock from blood loss. Unfortunately, almost everyone is out of commission on hero business.
> 
> Special Guest Blue Beetle

 Blood, there was so much blood. Dick stumbled into his apartment, he fumbled one-handedly with the lock while using his other to keep the pressure on the gash in his side. Luckily none of his neighbours came out of their homes to check on the noise cause he still stupidly had on his Nightwing uniform and his right side was covered in blood. As he slammed the door shut he was aware that he was getting blood on the hardwood floor but at the moment he didn't care. He needed to get to his bathroom where the stitches kit was. He was feeling dizzy and lightheaded using his unbloodied hand to guide him to the room. 

In the bathroom, he managed to knock at least half a dozen things out of the shelf trying to blindly grab the box. He took a big breath and tried to remember the steps that Batman had ingrained in his brain over the years. 

**1- If possible move the person somewhere where it will be easy to clean blood**

Nightwing stepped into the bathtub and let himself slump into a sitting position

**2- Cut off whatever clothes were in that area**

He grabbed the scissors from the kit and cut the patch of high uniform off. It was already bloody and ragged, there was no saving it. 

**3 - Administer anaesthetic**

Skip, that step he didn't have time and any anaesthetic would probably cause him to pass out. These rules really weren't meant for stitching yourself up. 

**4 - Rubbing Alcohol or antiseptic to sterilize the area**

He fumbled with the rubbing alcohol lid, his eyes going hazy and unfocused. He needed to do this, even if he called for back-up he would pass out from blood loss before anyone could get there. He looked around the bathroom for a second before grabbing a rag off the counter by the tub and balled it up before putting it in his mouth. He poured the rubbing alcohol into the wound and screamed into the rag, bashing his head back against the wall. 

**5 - You need to straighten the area out or the stitches won't hold when they stand up**

This was going to hurt like hell. He straightened his previously bent let out so that he could stretch out the area on his side. The pain was instantaneous and the wound gushed out more blood. 

**6 - Stich up the site**

He got the needs and dissolvable stitches and started. The pain from the gash was so great that he couldn't even feel the needle, he wanted to pass out but he knew if he did he would pass out. So instead, he kept his eyes on the stitched slowly and carefully making sure each one was closed. It felt like it took a year but he was barely bleeding now and the would be closed. He spits the rag out of his mouth and breathed raggedly. The heat graduating from his side was almost definitely an infection and he didn't have any medication.  

He needed to call someone to pick him up. Batman and Robin were off-world, kid-flash was busy with other superhero engagements, Roy and most the young justice team were all on a mission half-way across the world. There was nobody to help him right now, he needed to make it to the mansion on his own. Alfred would be there, Alfred would help him. His vision was swimming so that took away the options of driving or swinging, all that left was Zeta. He wasn't even sure he could make it there by himself and he surely couldn't stay here, he had lost too much blood. Even with the would stitched it was infected and bleeding lightly, his body could easily go into shock and die as he slept. 

He grabbed for his com-link and called the only other person he could think of. "Nightwing to Blue Beetle, Come in?" He prayed absently the Hispanic boy was still awake. he hadn't fone with the young justice team on mission because of finals. Over the years the small Hispanic boy had been all but adopted by Nightwing and they were close, if anyone could help him it would be him. 

"Blue beetle to Nightwing, it's three in the morning ese is everything okay?" The voice sounded slurry and tired, he had probably been woken up by the com-link going off. Nightwing took a deep breath trying to remain conscious. 

"No," he said, his voice sounded weak "I was injured, I managed to stitch it up but I've lost a lot of blood. I need assistance, I'm at my apartment" As the words left his lips he could hear scuttering on the other end. 

"ETA 5 minutes" the words sounded wide awake and much more serious now, there was a moment of hesitation "Don't fall asleep till I get there, Blue beetle out." Nightwing tried, he really tried to keep his eyes open but they were fading in and out of consciousness. He thought for a second how everything would look when Jamie got there. Blood on the floor trailing to the bathroom, things knocked everywhere and Nightwing sitting in a destroyed uniform covered in his own blood.  Just under five minutes later Blue beetle was standing at this side and helping him onto his feet. "Nightwing, Nightwing look at me," He said and looked his ex-leader in the eyes, they were dazed he was pale.

"I - I need to get to a zeta tube" Nightwing whispered "so I can get to the bat cave. But I couldn't get there on my own" Blue beetle looked down and to the left for a second, usually a sign he was having a conversation with his scarab.

"Okay we'll help you there" He picked up Nightwing and while the older man would normally complain now was not the time. At the zeta tube Nightwing beat in the code, it was a special code that went directly into the cave. They weren't supposed to use it before Batman was afraid of the computer saving it and getting hacked, but this was an emergency. 

"I- I will message you I've got there safe" He promised and hit the post button. As soon as the zeta tube opened on the cave end it set off an alarm, a system installed by Batman in case someone ever came in through the zeta. Batman wasn't here but he knew Alfred would come down here and he was good cause he couldn't get upstairs if he wanted to. He took one step out and his vision went black. It was only dark for a second and then he was sitting on the floor leaning against the computer and looking blindly at the wall. His side was burning, it felt like it was on fire.

"Master Dick!" The voice was surprised and with-in a minute the older man was helping him up onto a table. 

"Got cut" he gasped, his body was going into shock "stitched it up" he gasped again "too much blood loss" he felt like his eyes weighed a thousand pounds. He could blindly feel the older man lay him against the table, cut off the remainder of his uniform, put an IV in his arm (assumably saline fluids, morphine, and antibiotics), and start to slowly and gently clean up the blood around the wound. He could hear the beeping of vital machines being hooked up.

"Master Dick, are you still awake?" The voice was soft and concerned. Nightwing nodded but couldn't open his eyes, he simply didn't have the strength.  

"Mast Dick, you need to stay awake until we get at least one bag of fluids in you," Nightwing grunted but didn't open his eyes

" Tell me a story" he whispered sounding like her was eight again. He listened to Alfred tell him a story of young Bruce and occasionally answered questions to prove that he was, in fact, awake still. After about an hour the first bag of fluids was gone and his blood pressure was back up to normal. Alfred put on another one and pulled a blanket over the young man's body and let him sleep. 


	4. She said if I Was Ever Lonely or Scared to Just Look up at The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes he comes home to Damian and nobody else.

Sometimes when Dick came home he didn't go to his room, often he actually went to Damian's room instead. At first the youngest Robin was annoyed at his antics but over the years and as they got closer the young man looked forward to his bothers visits. Though you would never hear his admit to it. If Dick came in while Damian was still on patrol he would leave the door cracked so he didn't accidentally get a bat-a-rang in the ass and would just read or sleep until the boy was back. It was a rare thing to happen, maybe two or three times a year but it was something that was kept between them, nobody else knew (Except maybe Alfred, he seemed to know everything).

Damian walked up to his room in his night clothes, patrol had been boring and he was thoroughly exhausted. He paused for his second seeing his bedroom door cracked open, slowly he dragged the bat-a-rang out of the sole of his slippers. He was almost certain it was Dick but he was unwilling take that chance. As he cracked the door open and peered in he saw a contorted lump of sleeping human half way under his bed, definitely his brother. He was fast asleep. He was wearing his Nightwing uniform, it was damp and torn in places reveling lean muscles, lines of tension apparent even in his sleep. For a second Damian debated weather or not he should wake the older man up or let him just sleep where he was. Then with a small groan Dick unraveled himself and looked up at his brother half asleep.

"Dami" He whispered and rubbed his eyes childishly, this made the situation go from mildly odd to majorly weird. "I try ... wait up ... you ... sleep" His voice was high and whiny like a sleepy child. It irritated Damian but in a way he also thought it was kind of cute. 

"Grayson, why are you on the floor?" Damian demanded but without his normal bite "And haven't you been trained better than to let people sneak up on you"

"Um..." Dick hummed and looked around him at the ground as if he didn't notice he was there.  When he looked up at Damian again his eyes looked glassy and hazy, his head was cocked slightly to the left and he seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes opened. His eyes fell closed and he started leaning dangerously to the side. 

"GRAYSON?" Damian whisper shouted now scared that the boy had a concussion or worse had been drugged. He was immediately on his knees next to his brother grabbing him by the shoulders. Dick's eyes flickered open, from closer up it was obvious that his pupils were blow and his eyes were completely glazed over. "Grayson answer me or i'm calling father."

This seemed to be enough to wake the man from his stopped, his eyes attempted to focus Damian's and he hummed out something sounding like words. He swallowed hard and fought against the exhaustion in his body. "No" he whispered, his voice still high and childish "Jusssssss" He started to fade out again but Damian wasn't having it and shook him lightly,looking at his nightstand for the emergency com-link. "seeeeping drug shhhhhhipment, explosssion, drug got powederized, breathhhhed it in" His voice was slurred and his eyes dipped closed again. He leaned to the side again, he mumbled a few more words in something that wasn't English and he was asleep. 

Damian laid Dick down on the floor knowing he wasn't strong enough to move him to the bed. He checked Dick's vitals, his pulse was a little slow but he was breathing fine. Glancing at the com-link he debated on calling Bruce and moving him down to the cave but he decided instead to just let Dick sleep on his floor. The man had obviously thought enough to come to the mansion but apparently had not found it crisis enough to call for help. Damian laid his head on dicks chest (to keep track of his heartbeat OBVIOUSLY) and closed his eyes. He would stay up for a few more hours and make sure nothing went south then in the morning he would kick Dick's ass for scaring him. 


	5. Cause he would look down on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick woke up needing to fly so he went home to use the trapeze

Dick woke up in the middle of the night, it had been a dream that had woken him. Not a nightmare, in fact, it was a rather pleasent ream about his parents letting him swing on the trapeze for the first time without a net. But it still woke him up at the end with the feeling that he had been laying still for an eternity. He had what his parents, and a lot of the other circus actors, often called itchy feet. it was the overwhelming need to move, change, travel, fly and it was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt it a lot as a child especially before he was Robin but between patrol and league work Dicks need to move and travel was often subdued. He tried to just lay down and fall back asleep but after a few minutes he knew it was a hopeless endeavor. He wasn't going to get back to sleep tonight, at least not before he got up and moved for a while. 

At first he dragged himself out of bed and attempted to just pace his studio apartment and burn the extra energy but it wasn't working. He knew what he needed, he needed to fly and feel the wind. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he did so. The problem with that was it was completely storming outside and freezing at that. He sighed again, he couldn't go building jumping in this weather but he wasn't going to be able to settle with just pacing. After a few tense moments he grabbed his keys and his umbrella walking out and locking the door behind him. He walked in the cold rain to the Zeta tube and transported to the one in Gotham. It was similar weather is Gotham, cold and raining. He just continued to walk until he was at the manor and then in his room. He was right about one thing tonight, walking din't make the problem any better it actually just made it worse.

He kept spare training clothes in his room, they always looked the same. Each time he grew out of the old ones Bruce would have new ones made in an identical fashion, it was the perfect replica of the Flying Grayson training uniform. Bruce at one point had tried to convese him to change it but he wouldn't give in and it was one of the only times the Robin managed to out-suborn the Bat. He wasn't really sure why he had chosen to keep their training design. At first when he was still young and getting used to the manor it was sentimental, but then as he grew older he continued to keep the uniform it wasn't really the sentiment that made him continue to make all replacements identically designed but the fear that if he let go of this design he would be letting go of one of the only things that kept him linked to his heritage. 

He pulled on the uniform and silently made his way to the traning room. It had been the same since he was a child, Bruce had built trapeze and acrobatics stuff installed almost as soon as Dick had expressed an interest in continuing to practice (and by express an interest he meant as soon as Bruce got tired of being scared to death by a suprisingly quiet eight year old hanging off of shit he shouldn't have been able to got up to). He wasn't really sure what to do first so he looked at everything for a minute before taking a deep breath and trying to remember the practices his parents would do. 

He went to the gymnastic rings, jumping up and grabbing them. The room had been built tall enough that even now at six feet tall he was between twelve and twenty-three feet off the ground at all times. The gymnastic rings were a nice simple place to start. He pulled himself up so that his arms were straight down by his sides. Then he flipped himself so he was upside down and every part of him was completely straight up and down. It was a hard position to keep for any amount of time but he held it for several long seconds. it felt like the tension and anxiety he was feeling previously was simply falling off of him while he just hung there upside down. Eventually he lowered himself so his arms were straight down under him and his back was flat in the air. He closed his eyes concentrating and hearing his parents voice guiding him through the workout, not that be needed it or was even really following it.  '

He was already sweating and breathing heavily. He moved back to upside down before pushing himself up and into a back flip he grabbed the rings on his way down and pulled himself into the original position with his hands down by his sides. Two more times he repeated to same trick and then once backwards before finally jumping down onto the mats. His next workout was the horizontal bar, he pulled himself up in a position with his arms straight again, the bar sat level with his crotch. He pulled himself upside down like he had been on the gymnastic rings but instead of keeping his legs straight he spread them into the splits and flipped sideways so he was standing on top of the bar. He let his legs slip out under him so he was now doing splits on top of the bar feeling the pull of his muscles. Sweat rolled down his back and stuck his hair to his skin, he liked the feeling of being sweaty and tired from acrobatic training. He continued work out on the horizontal bar for awhile before finally moving to the trapeze. 

The trapeze didn't have a net. It had when Bruce first installed it but they had agreed to take it off (agreed = Dick refused to train on it with a net) when he was about ten. He climbed up to the platform and looked down, he imagined the crowd that his parents loved so much. One hand on the bar, then another and he kicked off and wa flying through the air. At its highest point he let go of the bar and did a few flips in the air before garbing the next bar and swinging to the other platform. He continued to train on the trapeze and other acrobatic equipment for a long time. Till his hands were blistered and the muscles of his shoulders, upper back, and arms were all thrumming with a deeply familiar dull pain. 

His feet hit the platform of the trapeze and he let himself sit with his legs dngling off the edgge for a little wahile. He wished his parents were here, he wondered absently if they could see him now, If they could see all the good he'd done in the world. WOuld they be proud of him? Would they be proud he had turned into RObin and started a legecy? Would they be proud he keot up his training? Would they be porud of the man he had turned out to be? He looked so much lik ehis father did at his age he wondered if they would recognize him any more?

"Do you typically cry when doing midnight  trainng?" Dick wiped his eyes and looked at the door he hadn't heard open, it was Jason. When Jason was Robin he used the acrobatic equipment but Tim and Damian much preferred Bruces way of trainng and rarely used the equipment, if ever. He climbed back down to the floor drying his face off with a towel.

"I don't make it a habit" he whicspered, not trusting his voice to stay steady. "I just, I've had a rough right...You know it's April first and I, I guess I just wanted to feel closer to them" ... "Do you want to join me?" He asked hopeful. He could see the contemplative look on Jasons face before he smiled a bit.

"I have my training clothes in my room" Jason spoke and turned around "I'll be right back."


	6. and He Would Smile and I Would be Less Alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick gets a text from Damian at four in the mornign ""Come to the mansion...I need you"
> 
> "

Dick was already awake when Damian had texted him

_**"Come to the mansion."** _

It was an odd request considering that when Damian wanted to bother him he always just broke in and made himself at home. It was hardly a second later when another text message came through

_**"and come in my window"** _

NOw Dick was concerned, was there something that had happend? Had Damian snuck out as Robin alone and gotten hurt? He wasn't supposed to be patroling this weekend because Bruce was over seas on buisness and had taken Alfred with him so the older man could visit family while they were there. Dick was allmost ready two minutes later when a third and fourth text came through

_**"I need you"** _

_**"Please"** _

Now he was on the edge of panicking as he threw on his shoes as fast as he could. He wasn't sure what had happened but he needed to get he the mansion as soon as possible because there was something defiantly wrong with his little brother.

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The room was a nightmare. Everything that had been on a shelf or table was thrown to the floor, dressers were ripped out of their spots with the contents scattered everywhere, the swords that decorated Damian walls were on the ground in an odd pile, there were obviously punched holes in the dry wall, The mattress had been flipped off the frame with the bedding across the entire room, and the bookshelf had been knocked over in front of the door but not before all the books had been torn off and thrown.

Well at least that explained why he had demanded that Dick came in through the window. In the middle of the disaster was Damian sitting on the floor with his back against the bed frame. His legs were pulled to his chest and he had his forehead resting on his knees. Dick could hear him muttering something in Arabic but he didn't understand the language enough to follow the stumbled broken words, it sounded kind of like a prayer he had heard Damian saying once in the past when Bruce had been injured pretty badly. Damian didn't look injured and he wasn't in uniform, Dick clicked the lock on the window louder than he needed to so not the scare the boy who still seemed to not notice his presence. He crouched down in front of the small boy, he went to brush Damian's hair out of his face but decided that touching the young assassin probably wasn't a great idea considering the state of the room. 

"Damian?" Dick whispered, Damian finally looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was puffy and red from tears. Damian looked at him wide eyed, one hand shakily came up and touched Dicks face. Dick didn't move or react, he wasn't going to unless one or both of them were in danger from the younger mans actions, he was going to let Damian do what he needed to feel safe. Damian's hand moved down and touched the side of Dicks neck and then right over his heart. Dick recognized what he was doing, he was making sure that Dick was real and alive in front of him, that he was breathing and had a heart beat. Dick had done the same thing in the past after a particularly bad nightmare or a dosing of fear gas. Considering the room and the fact Damian wasn't wearing his uniform Dick took the liberty to assume it was the prior. After Damian seemed to be satisfied with his check he launched himself into Dicks arms burying his face into the older mans neck. 

Dick hadn't been expecting the jump and almost lost his balance, but he managed to save it and wrap his arms tightly around his little brother. He could feel tears and sweat mixing where Damian had laid his face, his whole body was shaking and dick could feel that he was breathing far too quickly. His rough breathing was causing him to cough and choke on his sobs.  "Damian you need to calm down" Dick whispered cautiously rubbing Damians back "you need to breath." Damian didn't even seem to hear him, his breathing was still steadily increasing and he was trembling violently. Dick pulled his little brother off him just enough to look him in the eyes.

"Damian" He whispered, the young boys tan skin was pale and clammy. He looked like he was minutes from hyperventilating and passing out. "You need to breath" he whispered again. Something in Damians mind must have clicked because he was suddenly scratching at his throat as if he just noticed he wasn't breathing properly. Dick grabbed the hand and put it back to his chest where Damian had touched earlier, he hoped that feeling his heartbeat would help him calm down a bit. 

"Focus on breathing, feel how im breathing and just copy it" he whispered keeping one hand over the small one on his chest and one hand brushed the sweet matted hair off of Damians forehead "Damian i'm right here, Im okay, you need to breath."

Dick was relieved to see him attempting to take in a breath but he chocked over it and fell into a coughing fit. The second breath went a little better and then marginally better every breath after that till he was breathing consistently, a little fast and a little shallow but constant. After he finally started breathing well enough to curb Dicks concern he let Damian sit his head back on Dicks shoulder. 

Damian was till crying and trembling but with less intensity than before. Dick just held him and let him cry for a while while he reassessed the damage that had been done to the room, it was nothing that couldn't be cleaned up before Bruce made it home. Except the walls, they would need to have the holes covered. Dick could do that himself if they still had the stuff in the basement like they normally did (wholes in the wall were so common they bought the supply pretty regularly). In examining the walls he noticed red smeared on the white and suddenly the smell of blood filled his nostrils.

"Damian?" He whispered "Are you injured?" He knew the answer but asked anyway. When he didn't receive an answer he frowned, it had been at least thirty minutes and Damian still hadn't spoken. Dick cursed himself for not getting here sooner and wondered how long Damian had been in that position before he texted him. "Damian I need to know if your injured" He whispered again only receiving a small groan. He took that as he wasn't going to get an answer and he moved Damian on his lap so he could now properly examine the boys hands. They were bruised and beaten bloody, the fact that Dick hadn't noticed earlier made him feel disgusted with himself. They were still bleeding and the more he looked at the wounds the sicker he felt.

"Damian i'll be right back, Im going to get a first aid kit to wrap your hands" He whispered and for the first time that night Damian looked up at dick properly.

"Don't leave" He whispered, his voice was horse and shaking. The boy looked so small and fragile that it seemed like any wrong movement could could cause an emotional breakdown and/or another panic attack. Dick had seen this expressionbefore and knew he had to be careful with what he did next. He looked at Damians hands and then hisown, Damians blood was on Dicks hands adding to the nausea that Dick was feeling but they weren't bleeding in a way that made them an imediate danger so he decided to leave it for now. 

"Okay, I wont leave" He whispered "What happened, this place looks like a tornado went through it?" Dick tried to joke but he could see it landed wrong as Damian lowered his head and tensed his shoulders as if he were execting to be punished. His breath had started to pick up again and he was begingin to tremble like before. Dick had to bite back the feeling in his throat and focus on damian. 

"Damian, Damian it was a joke, nobody is going to hurt you ju..." his voice broke for half a second as he swallowed back anger and sadness "Just tell me what happened." 

Damian looked up at him and then down again "I'm sorry" he whispered "im sorry"

"Why are you sorry?" Dick asked glad that the younger boy was now speaking.

"I, I let her kill you" He whispered adn a new wave of tears began to fall from his eyes. That wasn't the answer Dick had been expecting and he was thrown off guard for a second trying to process what was just said. Before he had a chance to respons Damian continued.

"Mother, she came here and said it was time for me to come home, to take grandfather throne. She said i'd grown weak and soft. She blamed you for making me soft, she told me to kill you. I din't want to, I couldn't bring myself to do it. SHe said I was a dissapointment, a failure, so so she took my sword and she she she she she she killed she killed she killed you she killed you she killed you shekilledyoushekilledyoushekilledyou" his voice broke and he started muttering franticly in Arabic pulling harshly at his hair. 

Dick grabbed his hands oulling them away from his hair or anywhere else he coudl hurt himself. Dick was ure if damian hadn't needed him so much at that moemnt he woudl have been sick from the pure rage and sadness he felt. "Damian look at me, im not dead, it was jsut a dream" he tried to assure his brother who looked up at him weakly. He looked exhausted and scared, he looked his age for one of the rare times but in the worst possible way.

 "After you woke up what happened?" Dick urged hoping that talking about it would ground him in reality a bit, since it was obvious that he was still somewhere between the dream and the real world. Damian looked around the room as if he hadn't been aware that there was a problem to begin with. 

"Mother punished me and then I woke up" He whispered. Keeping him talking at least meat he was breathing simi-regularly "I was angry, I through you were dead" he paused and looked around the room "I was mad that I coulnd't protect you, I wanted to kill .... " he looked down, as if he was ashamed of himself "but I didn't, I didn't I didn't I didn't I ..." He fell into repeating himself again and if Dick hadn't still been holding his hands he probably would have gone back to pulling his hair. 

"You didn't" Dick assured him and Damian nodded 

"I didn't" he said one more time, "I was i was scared, I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. I knocked down the plate by accident, it felt good so I continued and I don't really know what happened nexr. There was nothing left, I felt like i couldnt breath. I needed to see you, I needed to know that you were alive." 

With that he finished and looked down at he floor. He wasn't hyperventilating or trembling anymore, he just looked really tired and confused. Dick pulled him into a strong hug and rocked him slightly "I'm alive" he assured "i'm right here" 

"i'm sorry about the room" he whispered quietly sounding like he was falling asleep

"it's okay, we can clean it tomorrow, do you want o go back to sleep?"

Damian nodded "Stay with me" 

"I would never leave you" Dick assured as he sat Damian down on the floor of just a second as he pulled the mattress back up on the bed. Damian looked down away from dick and muttered shyly 

"C-can we sleep under the bed?" he asked fidgeting with his hands "I feel safer in a small space" Dick could totally agree with that feeling and through about all the times Bruce had found him missing in the morning and almost panicked until he found the young Dick under the bed or in another closed spot.

"Of course we can" Dick pulled the Blanket under and Damian curled into Dicks arms. Dick smiled "You know my mom used to tell me a story when I couldn't sleep, you wanna hear it?" 

Damian just nodded silently, his face buried in the older mans chest. 

"My mama used to tell me there was a man who lived on the moon," He started, remmbering his mothers soft voice. He thinks his mother would have liked Damian, all his brash-ness and sharp tongue included.

"she said he was all alone up on the moon,he was so lonely he watched the people of the night, the broken the scared and the lonely, she said if I was ever lonely or scared to just look up at the moon cause the man would look down at me and he would smile and I would be less alone." DIck finished and Damian had falled asleep, snoring quietly. Dick let himself burry his face into damians thick simi-curly hair and drift off into sleep as well. He would he there when the boy woke up, and for however long he needed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments  
> (most of these chapters are written between 2 -5 in the mornkng)  
> Please leave comments  
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